Zeroing in on 'Zero-waste': Approaches to Mixology

Sylvain Chan, BA Geography Year 3

Illustration: Sylvain Chan

The lights are low, the music is blaring. Dancing past puddles of sticky vodka, you order a mojito at the bar. The bartender rolls his eyes and begins muddling mint in the shaker, tossing aside leaves frayed by caterpillars and browned by the sun. Then comes the alcohol and lime juice, its husk carelessly chucked out back. With ice, he shakes, strains, sprays soda water, and wedges fresh lime slices along the glass’ rim, nevermind its bruised counterparts sitting idly in the well. A quick taste test with a plastic straw pipette on the back of his hand, and the bartender slides you the finished cocktail, with a fresh straw and the punctuated scent of more perfectly poised mint. The cycle then repeats, as your friend is inspired to order a mojito too.

Drink after dance, and dance after drink, the amount of waste piling up behind the bar goes unnoticed.

From inedible garnishes to leftovers, Nand et al. (2025, p.1) state that an estimated 26% of 931 million tonnes of global food waste comes from food service businesses. Bars and restaurants account for 8-10% of annual global greenhouse gas (GHG) emissions (Index Report, 2024). 14% of food waste methane emissions originate from the food service industry (Food Waste Breakthrough, 2025), an especially worrying statistic given methane is far more potent than other greenhouse gases.

Industry Innovations

It’s a bleak situation, but not one that the industry is entirely oblivious to. Bars and mixology enthusiasts worldwide have been steadily integrating sustainability into their practices.

One recent example is the invention of Super Juice. Citrus waste is one of the food and beverage sector’s most significant sources of waste, with one kilogram of lemon garnishes generating roughly the same amount of carbon emissions as a 20-minute car journey (Simon, 2025). Bartenders Nickel Morris and Ryan LeClaire pioneered an economic alternative by combining citric and malic acids with just lemon or lime peels, which prevents the inclusion of succinic acid that accelerates oxidisation. This creates a Super Juice blend equal in flavour, capable of yielding “six times as much juice as normal juicing techniques” (O’Connell, 2023), and also longer-lasting than fresh juice.

Yet various hurdles remain, making it difficult to cement as a staple across the industry. During the production process, the high variability of citrus quality or blending too much—which may make its flavours overpower a cocktail’s other subtler ingredients—can compromise finding a consistent way to batch-make Super Juice (O’Connell, 2023). Nonetheless, it is a good step in the right direction, as it has been adopted by many hobbyists and adjusted for their own usage. 

The concept of closed-loop cocktails has also gained immense notoriety, encouraging “a complete rethinking of current systems” of production and consumption to eliminate waste wherever possible (Costello, p.1). Much of this craft requires ingenuity as bartenders are challenged to use ingredients to their fullest: from transforming egg yolks leftover in sours for custard, to pre-batching drinks with dilution to minimise ice production and  water waste.  Whilst often featured in independent bars, the ‘spirit’ motivating these craft cocktails is best highlighted by the Flor de Caña Sustainable Cocktail Challenge.  Here, mixologists compete to create a unique drink with Fair Trade certified and/or seasonal ingredients without creating waste, and serve it in a sustainable container (5th Edition T&Cs, 2025). It’s a clever promotion of the rum brand and an engaging way to stimulate creativity and eco-consciousness amongst the industry.

What does ‘zero waste’ really look like?

All these approaches parallel the broader zero-waste movement, popularised on social media during the 2010s. Although unlike the aesthetics of mason jars and stuffing a year’s worth of inorganic waste into tiny jars to make plastic bricks, approaching zero waste with food requires a unique set of strategies that are positioned against various obstacles.

Costello (2020, p.371) argues that truly eliminating food waste from the hospitality industry would require reimagining the current exploitative modes of cropland production to overhaul consumers’ and producers’ expectations of cheap and plentiful food. Yet, taking the United States’ agricultural system as an example, with food waste accounting for 30-40% of the food supply (Food Loss, 2025), she underscores how transport costs and their associated GHG emissions make closing nutrient loop systems virtually impossible.

The sheer scale of waste (food and beyond) in tandem with the seeming absence of effective policies addressing environmental issues has long set unrealistic expectations for individuals attempting a zero-waste lifestyle. Stories like Raaz’s (2025) show that many do not let its ethos penetrate skin deep; as she would come to learn the hard way, “the environmental landscape was so much more complex than ‘plastic bad, reusable good.” The perception of sustainability as an all-or-nothing pursuit can be harmful. It renders people inert to improving individual efforts, which, when combined collectively, can be effective in inciting systemic change. This isn’t to say that extractive systems aren’t at the root of the problem, but rather that citizens need not wait for better policies to hold themselves and each other accountable. 

This is why independent bars such as Trash Tiki – run by Toronto-based bartenders Kelsey Ramage and Iain Griffiths – are essential, as they set examples of what can be achieved at a grassroots level. As a pop-up that tours the world, they seek to understand “how cuisines and cultures waste different flavours by putting them in the trash rather than using them” (Willow, 2017), and raise awareness of sustainable business practices through their co-founded drinks consultancy Trash Collective (Rancic, 2019). 

Moreover, bars can cut back on the volume of food used by designing menus with seasonality and local suppliers in mind. The majority of food waste produced in nightlife are by-products and cannot be as easily reappropriated as its ‘edible’ counterparts. Thus, source reduction “will have the greatest environmental and material use benefits” (Costello, p.378). For example, Kenzo Han of the LA-based bar Firstborn focuses on the "continuous loop of production [of kombucha]” during its fermentation phase, and reuses the kombucha base with seasonal fruits from local suppliers to supplement its mocktail menu (Dooling, 2025). His statement that “bars don’t have to have everything” is a refreshing perspective that challenges industry norms of bulk-importing produce for economies of scale and to keep classics on the menu year-round (Ibid). More simply, rather than use traditional but wasteful garnishes like orange twists, Jack Byrne from Hong Kong’s Paragon creates edible decorations. In an interview with the South China Morning Post (2025), he argues, “I feel like there can be a lot of theatrics in cocktails, which adds to the waste element”. 

Despite this, it is essential to remain critical of places that market themselves as ‘zero waste’, as this may be a form of greenwashing. While many food and beverage places integrate these practices altruistically, other actors see a business opportunity to attract ‘progressive audiences’ without meaningfully delivering on their promises. After all, the concept of closed-loop cocktails had seemingly first emerged in 2010 by renowned bartender Ryan Chetiyawardana, who felt “no one seemed to care” until it became a more commonplace trend (Closed-Loop Cocktails, n.d) — in other words, something that could be capitalised on. 

Moreover, many of these source-reduction options involve considerable commitments (Costello, p. 381), with up-front costs that can be quite significant. And as our current capitalist climate has demonstrated, if environmentally beneficial solutions are not (immediately) profitable, the likelihood that they will be integrated on a large scale is slim. There is a significant gap in waste-minimising behaviour between ‘sustainable’ bars versus your average chain pub or nightclub next door. As Byrne explains, it is much easier for venues to maintain sustainability if it is built into their practice than to retrofit it (Lee, 2025). 

Even still, deep-dive stories suggest that many bartenders who run these spaces are in it for the love of the game. Rather than appropriate the fanfare that comes with being labelled as ‘eco-friendly’, people like Amir Javaid, owner of Socio in Hong Kong, are vocal about areas for improvement: citing struggles with how to dispose of upcycled oyster shells, organic waste when harvesting ingredients, and recycling glass (Lee, 2025). And to challenge the price problem, owner of Mostly Harmless (also in Hong Kong) Ezra Star simply states that “if you do it right, it costs less. (Ibid)”.

So, where can we as environmentally-mindful consumers turn to?

An interesting note about applying zero-waste thinking to nightlife is the fact that the industry is inherently a space of affluence and indulgence. Admittedly, you might not exactly be thinking about your carbon footprint if you’re inebriated by alcohol and the EDM is blasting in your eardrums. But if customers and bartenders step back from accountability, then will we really go anywhere with the amount of waste in the food and beverage sector? 

From challenging bars to stay transparent and supporting independent businesses with environmentally-conscious ethoses, to being more mindful of napkin usage and single-use plastics like straws — perhaps the new year may incite you to be more attentive with your consumption patterns and its subsequent waste.